


Hairsbreadth

by StarsCrackedOpen (Misthia)



Series: Things Carried, Unseen [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Biology, Developing Friendships, Facial Shaving, Fluff and Humor, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gen, Hair, Light-Hearted, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Misunderstandings, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25543660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misthia/pseuds/StarsCrackedOpen
Summary: She froze as her master pulled out a knife and held it to his neck.Or: In which Ahsoka learns about human grooming habits and Anakin is properly bemused.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker/Ahsoka Tano
Series: Things Carried, Unseen [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839160
Comments: 12
Kudos: 312





	Hairsbreadth

**Author's Note:**

> It’s me again. I promised lighter and I’m delivering! This is easily the lightest so far. I’ve seen a couple of great fics about Ahsoka learning about humans and their hair, and I imagine she’d REALLY not had much experience with adult humans.
> 
> This one’s a little different in that I switch perspectives a bit in the beginning, which I hope works.
> 
> I took a look at the layout of the Twilight as well — the crew quarters seem to amount to a shared room with bunk beds, so I rolled with it and added a table.
> 
> This takes place between “Gimme Shelter” and “Bounded In a Nutshell.” Once again, you can read it as pre-ship or not ship, as you please.
> 
> (Why do all my fics involve eating, you may ask? Because I really like eating. And it’s an easy social situation to build from.)

* * *

As they jumped to hyperspace, Ahsoka realized how hungry she was. She stretched in her seat, muffling a groan as her shoulder popped.

Anakin exhaled. “Well, we’ve got a half rotation ‘til we rendezvous with Obi-wan. Might as well get some rest.” As if on cue, his stomach grumbled. “...And some grub.”

Artoo whistled a reminder from behind them. Anakin sighed. “That’s right. Snips, you find food while I realign Artoo’s drive tread.”

He headed off the bridge with the happily beeping droid to the cargo bay. Ahsoka sighed and slumped in her seat for a moment. “ _Is_ there anything to eat on this bucket of bolts?” She pulled herself up and made her way to the small crew quarters. She started rummaging through the cabinets, finding in one a few GAR ration packs, and in another some dried galcot, kukuia nuts, and — _score!_ — a bag of nerf jerky.

She set the armful of snacks on the small table and sat down, unstrapping her bracers and flexing her wrists before tearing open the jerky. Meat, proper meat, was rare out in the field, and she savored it. She picked up her datapad from her bunk and returned to her spot, scrolling through star charts as she waited for her master to return.

* * *

Anakin made his way back to the quarters, famished and hands greasy. He nodded approvingly at the small pile of food Ahsoka had dug out, and ducked into the ‘fresher to wash his flesh hand and carefully wipe off the leather-covered mechno one. As he did, he caught sight of himself in the small mirror and grimaced. It had been more than a few days since he’d been able to shave, and patches of stubble were starting to make themselves visible. He scrubbed at his cheek, sighed, and went back out to his bunk, rummaging through his small bag, looking in vain for a razor. Failing to find one, he went over to the small locker at the foot of the bunks, and found a sharp, fixed-blade combat knife.

 _Not ideal,_ he thought to himself, but then, not much was lately.

He stuck the sheath into his belt and headed back to the ‘fresher, glad he’d made sure the water tank was filled before they’d left, and ran the tiny basin full. There was a small bar of soap there, and he wet his face and it, laying the knife on the edge of the sink.

It’d do.

* * *

Ahsoka saw her master return and stop to wash his hands — and then watched curiously as he dug through his bag and the footlocker. It wasn’t like her master to put off eating.

She didn’t see what he’d pulled out, only saw him walk back to the ‘fresher and run the water. _He’s washing his face?_ Ahsoka shrugged and returned to her datapad, then glanced up at him to ask a question.

She froze as he drew out a knife and held it to his own throat.

* * *

Anakin heard a quiet gasp and stopped, looking over through the doorway of the small ‘fresher to see his padawan, eyes wide, mouth agape, looking petrified. “Wha—?”

She didn’t blink. “Master...w-what are you doing?”

Anakin was clearly too tired, he thought, because he had no idea what she was going on about. He glanced at his tousled reflection in the cracked mirror and then back at Ahsoka, eyebrow cocked. “...Shaving?”

Now she blinked. “...What?”

“Shaving, Snips.” He lowered the blade, confused by her sudden alarm.

“With _that_?” She pointed at the knife.

“I don’t have anything else — wait, what did you think I was going to do with it?!”

Now it was Ahsoka’s turn to shrug, the concern finally fading a little. “I wasn’t sure. All I saw was you ignore food and then hold a combat knife to your throat.”

That would, Anakin supposed, be alarming on both counts, without context. But why wouldn’t she have thought—

“...Oh. I guess Togruta don’t have hair, do they?”

“Only eyelashes.” She batted hers exaggeratedly. He smiled out of one side of his mouth as he brought the blade over the opposite cheek. Anakin considered for a second — the only Togruta he’d ever met were his apprentice and Shaak Ti.

“Not the males, either?” She shook her head.

“Nope.”

“Guess that saves time in the morning.”

She watched him now with open curiosity as he moved the blade over his face. Anakin felt unusually self-conscious. Ahsoka sensed his slight discomfort, and flushing a little, looked away.

She returned to the datapad she had been reading, occasionally glancing surreptitiously at her master as he continued. She had the sense this was what would be considered a private routine to humans, but he didn’t shut the door. A few minutes passed, the only sounds the light rasp of the blade and the splash of water as he rinsed it.

“I didn’t know you have markings on your wrists too.” Ahsoka looked up, surprised, then down at her bare wrists and their matching swoops of white.

“Oh. Not all Togruta do, some only have facial markings.”

“Huh.” Anakin carefully rounded his jawline with the knife. “Learn something new every day.”

Ahsoka felt emboldened by that to ask a question, and put the datapad down, resting her chin in her hands as she watched him openly again. “Do you ever cut yourself doing that?”

Anakin _hmm’ed_ , rinsing the blade. “Sometimes. Though usually I’m not trying to do it with a combat knife. That—” he paused, bringing it to his upper lip and carefully angling it “—makes it trickier.”

She shook her head. Humans. “Why not just wait until we’re back at the temple?”

He shrugged. “It was bothering me.” He didn’t admit to her that it bothered him because it was still patchy, and it made him feel like a mangy tooka.

“I did kind of wonder. I mean, it always seemed like facial hair would be...itchy. But if the other option is scraping a blade at your neck every couple of days, itchy doesn’t seem too bad.” Anakin laughed, and drained the basin, rinsing his face.

“It’s not so bad, really. You get used to it.” He came out of the fresher, patting his face with a threadbare towel and taking the seat opposite her. “You haven’t spent a lot of time around humans, have you?”

She shook her head. “Not in close quarters.” Her youngling clan had only had two humans, and she wasn’t particularly close with them. For all her master’s occasional prickliness and their bickering she found him generally easy to be around and pepper with questions.

Anakin tossed the towel onto his bunk, then opened a ration pack, digging in. “Any other questions about humans, Snips?” He immediately regretted how wide a door he’d opened there, but was careful not to let that thought through the bond.

She seemed to consider for a moment, then asked with some hesitation, “What does hair _feel_ like?”

Anakin paused mid-chew, trying to decide how to proceed. The easiest way to illustrate seemed clear, but he didn’t want to seem, well, _weird_. He swallowed. “That...depends. On the person, and the hair...” She was looking at him, head tilted, brow quirked. _This is pointless._ He brushed off his hands, rested his arms on the table, and leaned forward. He sent a wordless invitation through the bond, unable to think of any way to offer aloud that wasn’t incredibly awkward.

Ahsoka, thankfully, got the message and didn’t seem put off, just curious. She reached across the small table and patted his head gently, then got a little bolder and ruffled his hair lightly. He found his eyes sliding shut, the simple contact nearly lulling him to sleep at the table, tired as he was.“It _is_ soft.” She drew her hand back, then gave a slight cry of surprise. He looked up, alarmed. A couple of strands were floating to the floor and Ahsoka was wide-eyed again. “It came out!”

He chuckled. “That’s normal.”

She didn’t look entirely convinced, but nodded. “I think I understand hair now.”

“Good.” He stood and brushed his now-tousled hair back, and rolled into his bunk. “I’m getting some sleep.”

It sounded like a good idea to Ahsoka too. She hit the main lights, then slid into her own bunk. Already drifting off, Anakin didn’t bother with speaking.

_G’night Snips._

_G’night...Skyguy._

In spite of himself, he smiled.

**_Fin._ **

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! I don’t feel this is the strongest piece, but I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
